


you only live once

by arduous_ardor



Series: YOI Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Day 1, M/M, One Shot, yoiweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arduous_ardor/pseuds/arduous_ardor
Summary: Time has always grasped at Yuuri's heels like shackles. Viktor's presence provides a change in perspective.Written for YOI Week 2017 Day 1: Le Parfum de Fleurs-->Option D: Opening/Ending.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods of #yoiweek2017 and the YOI fandom! Yuri!!! On Ice is very special to me, and I'm always happy for the opportunity to share my love for this wonderful series.

Perhaps more than anyone, athletes are aware of their own mortality.

Yuuri knows that his blessed stamina will fade as swiftly and surely as the stars fade to morning. He has by now become acquainted with Viktor’s anxieties over his thinning hair, his troublesome left knee. He’d rather see Viktor breathless because of Yuuri’s performance, not because of his own inability to keep up; seeing his idol clinging to the wall while his lungs heave with exertion makes Yuuri’s chest feel strange.

He has always felt trapped by the limitations of his own body. He wishes he could extend outside himself, supersede every restraint which tethers him to mortal weakness. Viktor Nikiforov had given him hope that this could be done, but perhaps it was better that he learned his hero was more man than god (much as his coach’s ego might feign otherwise). He thought he’d be disappointed, and yet strangely, he isn’t.

Viktor is human with human failures, and Yuuri loves him more for this.

“Am I old, Yuuri?” he’ll sometimes ask in a plaintive whine. 

“Not that old yet, I guess,” Yuuri replies with a smirk. 

“Not _that_ old? Yuuri is so cruel to me!” He pouts at Yuuri, who cocks one hand on his hip, the picture of mercilessness.

It’s amazing that Yuuri can even tease this man, this skating legend who can be childish and spoiled and petulant. But his initial anxiety has faded to comfortable banter (though his heart still beats intolerably quickly when Viktor looks at him a certain way; forget every other cause of death for this man will certainly be his end).

Perhaps, then, they do not need to keep fighting against time. This season feels too short; he wants to skate with Viktor forever. Still, if it is not possible to defy the forward flow towards an inevitable ending, then they can use their energy instead to celebrate every touch, every misspoken word, every reaffirmation which further asserts their togetherness in this ephemeral universe. 

It’s not perfect, but Yuuri feels nothing less than joy.

—

They’re on the train home from practice one day, and it’s nearly empty. The orange glow of the setting sun filters through the windows. The Cup of China is approaching, and Yuuri knows he’ll have to prove himself as Viktor Nikiforov’s chosen protege, but for today, he sinks into the seat and sighs with the satisfaction of a productive day. His muscles ache and his head swims with exhaustion, but it’s one of those days where he feels confident he’s done his best.  

“Thank you,” he says, because it’s something he really should be telling Viktor every day.

Viktor looks up, a strange expression on his face. Yuuri’s chest feels tight, but not in the same way as when he’s overexerted himself skating or running. “Of course, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri smiles softly in response. They sit in silence and are nearly at their stop when Viktor turns to one of the only other passengers on the train, an older woman with her hands folded neatly on her lap. “Would you take our picture?” He flashes the smile that makes Yuuri feel unsteady, so of course, she obliges. They remain seated across from each other, a strange melancholy filling the train alongside the peach-tinted evening light. 

“Here you go, dear,” she says, and Viktor smiles again. When Yuuri checks social media that evening, he sees that Viktor has uploaded the photo with the caption “Time flies so fast.” His chest feels funny again. 

He’s reminded of the moment when Viktor first arrived in his life, deconstructing everything he had believed to be true up until that point. He remembers finding his eros, remembers Viktor choosing him, of all people, as his student. He remembers that day on the beach when, after Yuuri had made his valiant attempt at avoiding the man, they met in that space which had previously stretched between them. 

Before the weather cooled, too, there was a day when they had gone to wade in the waves at the beach. Yuuri flicked water at his coach, who retaliated with a more vigorous splash. Everything had devolved from there, of course. Naturally, they ended the day drenched and exhausted from laughing until their stomachs hurt. 

Afterwards, they went to rinse the salt from their skin in the showers, and they chased each other through the water. Viktor caught up to his student and ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri did the same to Viktor. Once again, Viktor unleashed the playful side of Yuuri so often hidden beneath a serious exterior which stemmed from a core of stern determination. Yuuri had worked hard; with his lack of confidence, he never felt comfortable enough to relax and enjoy himself. But with Viktor, Yuuri could be every piece of himself, and as Viktor posed ridiculously in his too-tight swimsuit beneath the steady stream of droplets, Yuuri felt a lightness he had never previously known.

He remembers this feeling as he stares at the melancholy photograph Viktor has posted, and he decides he wants to feel this way forever.

—

Months later, he has fallen in love, has taken chances and hurt and _triumphed._ At his side is the most impossible man he has ever known, a mere man with his own selfishness and weakness and strength. 

This won’t last forever, but every day they spend together, every time they train and laugh and fight and make up is enough.

They only have one life to live, and Yuuri once felt stifled by this fact. An aging dime-a-dozen skater, he was running out of time. He ignored the small moments in between each performance.

He’s grateful for Viktor for more reasons than he can articulate. It is not just that Yuuri has learned what it means to love and be loved. He no longer fights against time, instead letting it guide him gently forward towards moments which encompass more than he could have imagined. You only live once, but this life can be beautiful.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first work for #yoiweek2017! I didn't have as much time to work on this as I might have liked, but I really wanted to participate in this lovely outpouring of affection for a series which means so much to me. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and I look forward to seeing all of the fan works throughout the rest of this week. Thank you!


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